Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
His spasms send me over the edge. I clench around him, and my orgasm pulses through me as I shudder in his arms. The world narrows down to us, to this moment, and I can think of nothing but the pleasure that racks my body.
And the man who gave it to me.
We stay like that for a timeless moment, our bodies still joined as we gasp for breath, sweat slicking our skin. But it feels too short. Every second spent in his arms isn’t enough.
“Hannah,” he growls in my ear, “I love you. Only you, Hannah. Only you.”
52
I look into his stormy eyes. “I love you too, Rogan,” I whisper.
With a final lingering kiss, he withdraws from me and sets me down so I’m on my feet, our bodies still touching.
I’m tempted to take him to my bed, make long and lingering love all night.
But danger is in the air. Its scent is as potent as the metallic, dark essence of Rogan’s blood.
“Our child is in danger,” I tell him. “Not just from Eris. Alara told me—”
He holds up a hand. “Wait. Who the hell is Alara?”
“She’s an old vampire.” I look around. “She was here. I don’t know where she went off to. I thought she was going to stay with me. Anyway, she told me things. Taught me things. Things my father probably should have taught me. But…” I sigh. “I would have fought him all the way.” A giant yawn splits my face.
“You need rest,” he says. “And so do I.”
I shake my head. “No. We need to—”
“Hannah”—his voice is stern—“you’ll be no good to anyone, especially our child, if you don’t get enough rest.” He sniffs. “Besides, we both need a shower.”
He’s not wrong. I broke more than one sweat wrestling with Alara’s smoky opponent, and Rogan smells like he’s just run three marathons back-to-back.
But his scent arouses me more than disgusts me. That wild lupine fragrance…
His eyes—heavy-lidded and sensual—meet mine. I take his hand and lead him toward the bathroom. The tile is cold against my bare feet as I turn the shower faucet on.
Rogan gets rid of the rest of his clothes with the animal grace that always fascinates me. The muscles beneath his skin flex with every movement.
Once the mirror is foggy, I inhale the steam, closing my eyes.
Rogan steps under the spray first, his body slick and glistening under the downpour. He holds out his hand and I join him. Our bodies mold together like two pieces of a puzzle, our hearts beating in unison against the whoosh of water falling around us.
And God, it’s soothing, as if hot water is washing away our sins and worries, at least for this transient moment.
“Is it warm enough?” Rogan asks, sliding his hands down my body to rest on my hips.
I nod and bury my face against his chest. The water cascades down our bodies, slipping through the webs of contact between us.
He glides his strong fingers into my hair and massages my scalp.
“God…” I moan. It feels like heaven.
He chuckles softly, a low rumble that ripples through me. It’s not a growl, but it would be if he were in wolf form. He’s all wolf all the time. The more time I spend around him, the more I see it.
He removes his hands from my head, and though I whimper slightly at the loss, I groan again when he rubs body wash between his palms and clamps them over my shoulders. He kneads down my arms, across my chest—not even stopping to tweak my hard nipples—down to my stomach before falling to his knees to wash my legs.
He’s tender as he cleanses me, and only then do I realize the muscle aches throughout my body. Rogan’s touch is a soothing balm.
A part of me wants to surrender to the weariness, to just let my body relax after so much tension. But there’s a battle raging inside me, one that doesn’t allow me to let my guard down.
Not yet.
Our child is in danger, and I can’t dismiss Alara’s warnings. I must be alert, sharp, prepared.
“Come here, Hannah,” Rogan murmurs against my skin as he gently lifts me into his arms. He holds me close beneath the warm cascade of water.
If only the shower could wash away my worries.
I lean into him, resting my head against his chest as he continues to gently knead his fingers into my muscles. Despite my mental turmoil, my tension slowly dissolves into the steamy air around us.
His cock is hard again, but he doesn’t fuck me.
Only holds me as the water soothes us.
A few timeless moments later, he kisses the top of my head, sets me down, and washes himself. As much as I’d like to do it for him, I’m too damned tired.
Once he’s clean, he turns off the water, leaves the shower, grabs a towel, and gently dries me.